


Checkmate

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Smut, Undercover Smut, remote vibe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22805851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~Trying to hide something from your coworkers is almost impossible, especially when your coworkers study human behavior for a living.~
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 230





	Checkmate

The engines roared; Morgan snored in time with the droning of the plane.

It had been a week. Stressed but relieved that no one else had died, the team headed back to Quantico; mostly silent, alone with their thoughts.

The only chatter came from Reid and Y/N who sat mid plane, playing a game of chess that had been going on forever. Reid was smarter, but Y/N was able to distract him enough to sneak a few choice moves in here and there.

She leaned forward over the board, giving him a nice view of her cleavage, and set her middle finger atop a pawn, deciding.

"The thing about Martin Fletcher," Reid went on, eyes determined to stay on her hand and not stray further up. "He would technically be classified as a sexual sadist, but when interviewed before his execution, he admitted to the murders but did not express gaining any sexual satisfaction from any of the victims or scenes."

Y/N shrugged and took her hand off the pawn as a shiver ran down her spine. "Is that so weird? Everyone's different, Spencer."

"It's not," he agreed, eyeing the board and then Y/N, "I just found it interesting. He said that he liked to masturbate to pictures of classic cars and women wearing latex catsuits."

A chuckle sounded from across the plane and Y/N leaned over to look past Reid's shoulder. Hotch was seated diagonally across from her, ankle on his knee, cell phone in hand, listening but not.

"Something to add, Agent?" Y/N teased; a slick smile spreading across her lips.

Dark brown eyes lifted. "Classic cars," he repeated, staring hard at Y/N, "latex catsuits? Sounds like a-"

"Batman Complex," she finished for him with a faint laugh. "You're right."

Hotch looked up with a rare smile and a moment of tension filled the cabin.

Reid was lost between them.

"Batman Complex?" he questioned, brows knitting as his microprocessor of a brain struggled to catch up. "Is that a-"

"Inside joke," Y/N said, clearing her throat and tearing her attention away from Hotch. She leaned in again and gave them both a peek, moving her pawn forward. She let out a heavy breath as another shiver attacked her, and sat back in her seat. "Your move, stud."

Reid pressed his lips together in a confused smile and studied the board. "You know, superhero fetishes are ranked in the top ten of sexual fantasies for white males ages 15-25."

Y/N squeezed her thighs together. "Just missed the cutoff, huh?"

His cheeks burned bright. "I-I've never…"

"Oh, come on, Spencer. Everyone has fantasies. Everyone's got that one...mmm...thing that…" Y/N sat up straight and gripped the armrest for a quick second, her voice growing weak. She shot a glance at Hotch, and cleared her throat. "We all have that one thing that seems a little strange. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Reid ignored her squirming and moved his rook. "I don't think so. I don't...really…"

Y/N licked her lips absently and looked down at the chessboard. There was no way she was going to win. Not even a little. All she had up her sleeve was distraction, even if she was a little more than distracted herself.

“Are you seriously telling me, Dr. Reid…” She spoke slowly, capturing one of his pawns as his eyes glazed over slightly. “...that you don’t have any weird... sexy things…” She picked up his piece and brought it towards her lips, slowly rolling the top around in her fingertips. “...floating around in that head of yours?”

Reid swallowed hard.

Hotch shifted in his seat.

Morgan rolled onto his side, his snore fading to a gentle purr.

“No?” Reid watched as Y/N grinned, rubbing her thumb across the top of the pawn slowly. “I don’t know.”

“Too bad,” she shrugged, sitting back as her stomach tightened a bit. “I’d imagine you’re full of interesting ideas.”

Reid smiled and looked down at the board, a bit of hair falling into his eyes. “Ideas, yes,” he admitted. “Sexual ideas? No.”

Y/N held her breath for a moment and her eyes fluttered closed. She pushed her knees up and thighs together, going up on her tiptoes for a split second before relaxing with a sigh. “You gotta have something dirty going on up there.”

Bishop to rook.

“Not really.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said simply.

Hazel eyes narrowed. “I’m not one to lie, Y/N.”

Her shoulders twitched suddenly and she exhaled slowly, eyes flickering over to Hotch who sat as before, watching but not, listening but not. “I guess that’s true,” she said, breath quickening with each word. “But if you were one to lie, you’d probably be good at it, thus making it impossible for me to know how true that statement is.”

“Well,” he said with a small smile, “I suppose that’s true as well.”

Y/N’s hips rolled unconsciously and she dug her nails into her thigh to stop the movement. “So, no dirty thoughts ever?” she asked, leaning in to study the board.

Reid’s eyes drifted to the deep line between her breasts and his voice grew tight. “No more than anyone else, I would assume. You?”

Y/N pulled her bottom lip through her teeth as her eyes hazed over for a second. She tipped her head to look at Hotch, chest rising and falling with heavy but controlled breaths. “Oh, I always have dirty thoughts, Spencer. Always.” She chewed her lip again, canine falling like a dagger into the corner of her mouth.

Knight to E7.

“Such as?”

A bout of turbulence shook the cabin as the plane rolled through a mess of heavy clouds, and Y/N sat back in her chair, gripping the armrests. She closed her eyes and let out a silent moan through gently parted lips; knees shaking almost imperceptibly.

When the plane regained its smooth glide, Y/N opened her eyes and gave Reid a dreamy smile. “Well, such as…” Her gaze traveled to Hotch for a brief moment and then back to the chessboard. “Sometimes I think about having sex in here.”

“In here?” Reid swallowed hard.

“Yeah.” She licked her lips and crossed her arms, forcing her breasts to pop beneath her tight blouse. “Right in here.” She dropped her voice and her arms, leaning closer. “Can you imagine how much fun that would be, Spencer? Cumming your brains out at 60,000 feet?”

Reid, who had subconsciously leaned in as Y/N did, now sat back, spell broken. “Well, actually, we rarely travel above 41,000 feet. Sometimes 42,000.”

Y/N laughed. “You’re killing me, kid.”

“No,” he smiled, “just kicking your ass at chess.”

His queen flew down the board and Y/N gasped, sitting on the edge of her seat.

“Well...shit,” she panted, brows knitting, stomach clenching, then relaxing.

“Checkmate.”

Y/N eyed the board and then shook her head. “Damnit.”

“Of course, if you had actually been paying attention, you may have made a better go of it.”

Hotch laughed under his breath.

Y/N blinked quickly. “Excuse me? I’m paying enormous attention.”

Reid sat back and smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I think you played very well being that you were desperate to distract me from the fact that you were having multiple orgasms while talking to me.”

“What!” Her face flushed and her guilty smile was unfading.

“You’ve been sweating, out of breath, muscles clenching and releasing. Your pulse has been elevated and your pupils dilating at a rapid pace. I’m assuming you’re being stimulated by a remote device controlled by an app on Hotch’s phone.”

She stammered. “That’s-not-”

“If I’m correct, you’ve had about four orgasms since we sat down.” Reid stopped and clasped his hands, waiting smugly to hear if he was correct.

Y/N took a deep breath and sat up straight. “Well, ahem. That’s...I’m…” A sudden shock from the device tucked in her panties made Y/N whimper and she grit her teeth, annoyed. “If you’ll excuse me, Spencer…”

He grinned. “Of course.”

Y/N jumped up, a little weak in the knees, and hurried passed him, shaking her head at Hotch on the way to the lavatory. “You suck,” she mouthed.

Hotch, cool as ever, clicked a button on his phone and Y/N nearly fell over.

“And you,” he said quietly, “owe me twenty bucks.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Y/N waved him off dismissively and rushed to the bathroom to remove the vibe.

“Twenty bucks?” Reid asked, turning in his seat.

Hotch closed his phone and tucked it safely inside his jacket pocket. “She thought she could stay calm enough so that you wouldn’t notice. I knew she’d fail.”

Spencer frowned, a bit confused. “That’s kind of mean, isn’t it?” 

Hotch shrugged and pushed his seat back, closing his eyes. “I don’t know,” he said with a smirk. “I had fun.”


End file.
